"My inclinations," wrote Washington at twenty-three, "are strongly bent to
arms," and the tendency was a natural one, coming not merely from his
Indian-fighting great-grandfather, but from his elder brother Lawrence,
who had held a king's commission in the Carthagena expedition, and was one
of the few officers who gained repute in that ill-fated attempt. At Mount
Vernon George must have heard much of fighting as a lad, and when the ill
health of Lawrence compelled resignation of command of the district
militia, the younger brother succeeded to the adjutancy. This quickly led
to the command of the first Virginia regiment when the French and Indian
War was brewing. Twice Washington resigned in disgust during the course of
the war, but each time his natural bent, or "glowing zeal," as he phrased
it, drew him back into the service. The moment the news of Lexington
reached Virginia he took the lead in organizing an armed force, and in the
Virginia Convention of 1775, according to Lynch, he "made the most
eloquent speech ... that ever was made. Says he, 'I will raise one
thousand men, enlist them at my own expense, and march myself at their
head for the relief of Boston.'" At fifty-three, in speaking of war,
Washington said, "my first wish is to see this plague to mankind banished
from off the earth;" but during his whole life, when there was fighting to
be done, he was among those who volunteered for the service.

The personal courage of the man was very great. Jefferson, indeed, said
"he was incapable of fear, meeting personal dangers with the calmest
unconcern." Before he had ever been in action, he noted of a certain
position that it was "a charming field for an encounter," and his first
engagement he described as follows: "I fortunately escaped without any
wound, for the right wing, where I stood, was exposed to and received all
the enemy's fire, and it was the part where the man was killed, and the
rest wounded. I heard the bullets whistle, and, believe me, there is
something charming in the sound." In his second battle, though he knew
that he was "to be attacked and by unequal numbers," he promised
beforehand to "withstand" them "if there are five to one," adding, "I
doubt not, but if you hear I am beaten, but you will, at the same [time,]
hear that we have done our duty, in fighting as long [as] there was a
possibility of hope," and in this he was as good as his word. When
sickness detained him in the Braddock march, he halted only on condition
that he should receive timely notice of when the fighting was to begin,
and in that engagement he exposed himself so that "I had four bullets
through my coat, and two horses shot under me, yet escaped unhurt, altho'
death was levelling my companions on every side of me!" Not content with
such an experience, in the second march on Fort Duquesne he "prayed" the
interest of a friend to have his regiment part of the "light troops" that
were to push forward in advance of the main army.

The same carelessness of personal danger was shown all through the
Revolution. At the battle of Brooklyn, on New York Island, at Trenton,
Germantown, and Monmouth, he exposed himself to the enemy's fire, and at
the siege of Yorktown an eyewitness relates that "during the assault, the
British kept up an incessant firing of cannon and musketry from their
whole line. His Excellency General Washington, Generals Lincoln and Knox
with their aids, having dismounted, were standing in an exposed situation
waiting the result. Colonel Cobb, one of General Washington's aids,
solicitous for his safety, said to his Excellency, 'Sir, you are too much
exposed here, had you not better step back a little?' 'Colonel Cobb,'
replied his Excellency, 'if you are afraid, you have liberty to step
back.'" It is no cause for wonder that an officer wrote, "our army love
their General very much, but they have one thing against him, which is the
little care he takes of himself in any action. His personal bravery, and
the desire he has of animating his troops by example, make him fearless of
danger. This occasions us much uneasiness."

This fearlessness was equally shown by his hatred and, indeed,
non-comprehension of cowardice. In his first battle, upon the French
surrendering, he wrote to the governor, "if the whole Detach't of the
French behave with no more Resolution than this chosen Party did, I
flatter myself we shall have no g't trouble in driving them to the d---."
At Braddock's defeat, though the regiment he had commanded "behaved like
men and died like soldiers," he could hardly find words to express his
contempt for the conduct of the British "cowardly regulars," writing of
their "dastardly behavior" when they "broke and ran as sheep before
hounds," and raging over being "most scandalously" and "shamefully
beaten." When the British first landed on New York Island, and two New
England brigades ran away from "a small party of the enemy," numbering
about fifty, without firing a shot, he completely lost his self-control at
their "dastardly behavior," and riding in among them, it is related, he
laid his cane over the officers' backs, "damned them for cowardly
rascals," and, drawing his sword, struck the soldiers right and left with
the flat of it, while snapping his pistols at them. Greene states that the
fugitives "left his Excellency on the ground within eighty yards of the
enemy, so vexed at the infamous conduct of the troops, that he sought
death rather than life," and Gordon adds that the General was only saved
from his "hazardous position" by his aides, who "caught the bridle of his
horse and gave him a different direction." At Monmouth an aide stated that
when he met a man running away he was "exasperated ... and threatened the
man ... he would have him whipped," and General Scott says that on finding
Lee retreating, "he swore like an angel from heaven." Wherever in his
letters he alludes to cowardice it is nearly always coupled with the
adjectives "infamous," "scandalous," or others equally indicative of loss
of temper.

There can be no doubt that Washington had a high temper. Hamilton's
allusion to his not being remarkable for "good temper" has already been
quoted, as has also Stuart's remark that "all his features were indicative
of the strongest and most ungovernable passions, and had he been born in
the forests, he would have been the fiercest man among the savage tribes."
Again Stuart is quoted by his daughter as follows:

"While talking one day with General Lee, my father happened to remark that
Washington had a tremendous temper, but held it under wonderful control.
General Lee breakfasted with the President and Mrs. Washington a few days
afterwards.

"'I saw your portrait the other day,' said the General, 'but Stuart says
you have a tremendous temper.'

"'Upon my word,' said Mrs. Washington, coloring, 'Mr. Stuart takes a great
deal upon himself to make such a remark.'

"'But stay, my dear lady,' said General Lee, 'he added that the president
had it under wonderful control.'

"With something like a smile, General Washington remarked, 'He is right.'"

Lear, too, mentions an outburst of temper when he heard of the defeat of
St. Clair, and elsewhere records that in reading politics aloud to
Washington "he appeared much affected, and spoke with some degree of
asperity on the subject, which I endeavored to moderate, as I always did
on such occasions." How he swore at Randolph and at Freneau is mentioned
elsewhere. Jefferson is evidence that "his temper was naturally irritable
and high-toned, but reflection and resolution had obtained a firm and
habitual ascendency over it. If however it broke its bonds, he was most
tremendous in his wrath."

Strikingly at variance with these personal qualities of courage and hot
blood is the "Fabian" policy for which he is so generally credited, and a
study of his military career goes far to dispel the conception that
Washington was the cautious commander that he is usually pictured.

In the first campaign, though near a vastly superior French force,
Washington precipitated the conflict by attacking and capturing an advance
party, though the delay of a few days would have brought him large
reinforcements. As a consequence he was very quickly surrounded, and after
a day's fighting was compelled to surrender. In what light his conduct was
viewed at the time is shown in two letters, Dr. William Smith writing,
"the British cause,... has received a fatal Blow by the entire defeat of
Washington, whom I cannot but accuse of Foolhardiness to have ventured so
near a vigilant enemy without being certain of their numbers, or waiting
for Junction of some hundreds of our best Forces, who are within a few
Days' March of him," and Ann Willing echoed this by saying, "the
melancholy news has just arrived of the loss of sixty men belonging to
Col. Washington's Company, who were killed on the spot, and of the Colonel
and Half-King being taken prisoners, all owing to the obstinacy of
Washington, who would not wait for the arrival of reinforcements."

Hardly less venturesome was he in the Braddock campaign, for "the General
(before they met in council,) asked my opinion concerning the expedition.
I urged it, in the warmest terms I was able, to push forward, if we even
did it with a small but chosen band, with such artillery and light stores
as were absolutely necessary; leaving the heavy artillery, baggage, &c.
with the rear division of the army, to follow by slow and easy marches,
which they might do safely, while we were advanced in front." How far the
defeat of that force was due to the division thus urged it is not possible
to say, but it undoubtedly made the French bolder and the English more
subject to panic.

The same spirit was manifested in the Revolution. During the siege of
Boston he wrote to Reed, "I proposed [an assault] in council; but behold,
though we had been waiting all the year for this favorable event the
enterprise was thought too dangerous. Perhaps it was; perhaps the
irksomeness of my situation led me to undertake more than could be
warranted by prudence. I did not think so, and I am sure yet, that the
enterprise, if it had been undertaken with resolution, must have
succeeded." He added that "the enclosed council of war:... being
almost unanimous, I must suppose it to be right; although, from a
thorough conviction of the necessity of attempting something against the
ministerial troops before a reinforcement should arrive, and while we were
favored with the ice, I was not only ready but willing, and desirous of
making the assault," and a little later he said that had he but foreseen
certain contingencies "all the generals upon earth should not have
convinced me of the propriety of delaying an attack upon Boston."

In the defence of New York there was no chance to attack, but even when
our lines at Brooklyn had been broken and the best brigades in the army
captured, Washington hurried troops across the river, and intended to
contest the ground, ordering a retreat only when it was voted in the
affirmative by a council of war. At Harlem plains he was the attacking
party.

How with a handful of troops he turned the tide of defeat by attacking at
Trenton and Princeton is too well known to need recital. At Germantown,
too, though having but a few days before suffered defeat, he attacked and
well-nigh won a brilliant victory, because the British officers did not
dream that his vanquished army could possibly take the initiative. When
the foe settled down into winter quarters in Philadelphia Laurens wrote,
"our Commander-in-chief wishing ardently to gratify the public expectation
by making an attack upon the enemy ... went yesterday to view the works."
On submitting the project to a council, however, they stood eleven to four
against the attempt.

The most marked instance of Washington's un-Fabian preferences, and proof
of the old saying that "councils of war never fight," is furnished in the
occurrences connected with the battle of Monmouth. When the British began
their retreat across New Jersey, according to Hamilton "the General
unluckily called a council of war, the result of which would have done
honor to the most honorable society of mid-wives and to them only. The
purport was, that we should keep at a comfortable distance from the enemy,
and keep up a vain parade of annoying them by detachment ... The General,
on mature reconsideration of what had been resolved on, determined to
pursue a different line of conduct at all hazards." Concerning this
decision Pickering wrote,--

"His great caution in respect to the enemy, acquired him the name of the
American Fabius. From this governing policy he is said to have departed,
when" at Monmouth he "indulged the most anxious desire to close with his
antagonist in general action. Opposed to his wishes was the advice of
his general officers. To this he for a time yielded; but as soon as he
discovered that the enemy had reached Monmouth Court House, not more than
twelve miles from the heights of Middletown, he determined that he should
not escape without a blow."

Pickering considered this a "departure" from Washington's "usual practice
and policy," and cites Wadsworth, who said, in reference to the battle of
Monmouth, that the General appeared, on that occasion, "to act from the
impulses of his own mind."

Thrice during the next three years plans for an attack on the enemy's
lines at New York were matured, one of which had to be abandoned because
the British had timely notice of it by the treachery of an American
general, a second because the other generals disapproved the attempt, and,
on the authority of Humphreys, "the accidental intervention of some
vessels prevented [another] attempt, which was more than once resumed
afterwards. Notwithstanding this favorite project was not ultimately
effected, it was evidently not less bold in conception or feasible in
accomplishment, than that attempted so successfully at Trenton, or than
that which was brought to so glorious an issue in the successful siege of
Yorktown."

As this résumé indicates, the most noticeable trait of Washington's
military career was a tendency to surrender his own opinions and wishes to
those over whom he had been placed, and this resulted in a general
agreement not merely that he was disposed to avoid action, but that he
lacked decision. Thus his own aide, Reed, in obvious contrast to
Washington, praised Lee because "you have decision, a quality often wanted
in minds otherwise valuable," continuing, "Oh! General, an indecisive mind
is one of the greatest misfortunes that can befall an army; how often have
I lamented it this campaign," and Lee in reply alluded to "that fatal
indecision of mind." Pickering relates meeting General Greene and saying
to him, "'I had once conceived an exalted opinion of General Washington's
military talents; but since I have been with the army, I have seen nothing
to increase that opinion.' Greene answered, 'Why, the General does want
decision: for my part, I decide in a moment.' I used the word 'increase,'
though I meant 'support,' but did not dare speak it." Wayne exclaimed "if
our worthy general will but follow his own good judgment without listening
too much to some counsel!" Edward Thornton, probably repeating the
prevailing public estimate of the time rather than his own conclusion,
said, "a certain degree of indecision, however, a want of vigor and
energy, may be observed in some of his actions, and are indeed the obvious
result of too refined caution."

Undoubtedly this leaning on others and the want of decision were not
merely due to a constitutional mistrust of his own ability, but also in a
measure to real lack of knowledge. The French and Indian War, being almost
wholly "bush-fighting," was not of a kind to teach strategic warfare, and
in his speech accepting the command Washington requested that "it may be
remembered by every gentleman in the room, that I this day declare with
the utmost sincerity I do not think myself equal to the command I am
honored with." Indeed, he very well described himself and his generals
when he wrote of one officer, "his wants are common to us all--the want of
experience to move upon a large scale, for the limited and contracted
knowledge, which any of us have in military matters, stands in very little
stead." There can be no question that in most of the "field" engagements
of the Revolution Washington was out-generalled by the British, and
Jefferson made a just distinction when he spoke of his having often
"failed in the field, and rarely against an enemy in station, as at Boston
and York."

The lack of great military genius in the commander-in-chief has led
British writers to ascribe the results of the war to the want of ability
in their own generals, their view being well summed up by a writer in
1778, who said, "in short, I am of the opinion ... that any other General
in the world than General Howe would have beaten General Washington; and
any other General in the world than General Washington would have beaten
General Howe."

This is, in effect, to overlook the true nature of the contest, for it was
their very victories that defeated the British. They conquered New Jersey,
to meet defeat; they captured Philadelphia, only to find it a danger; they
established posts in North Carolina, only to abandon them; they overran
Virginia, to lay down their arms at Yorktown. As Washington early in the
war divined, the Revolution was "a war of posts," and he urged the danger
of "dividing and subdividing our Force too much [so that] we shall have no
one post sufficiently guarded," saying, "it is a military observation
strongly supported by experience, 'that a superior army may fall a
sacrifice to an inferior, by an injudicious division.'" It was exactly
this which defeated the British; every conquest they made weakened their
force, and the war was not a third through when Washington said, "I am
well convinced myself, that the enemy, long ere this, are perfectly well
satisfied, that the possession of our towns, while we have an army in the
field, will avail them little." As Franklin said, when the news was
announced that Howe had captured Philadelphia, "No, Philadelphia has
captured Howe."

The problem of the Revolution was not one of military strategy,
but of keeping an army in existence, and it was in this that the
commander-in-chief's great ability showed itself. The British could and
did repeatedly beat the Continental army, but they could not beat the
General, and so long as he was in the field there was a rallying ground
for whatever fighting spirit there was.

The difficulty of this task can hardly be over-magnified. When Washington
assumed command of the forces before Boston, he "found a mixed multitude
of people ... under very little discipline, order, or government," and
"confusion and disorder reigned in every department, which, in a little
time, must have ended either in the separation of the army or fatal
contests with one another." Before he was well in the saddle his general
officers were quarrelling over rank, and resigning; there was such a
scarcity of powder that it was out of the question for some months to do
anything; and the British sent people infected with small-pox to the
Continental army, with a consequent outbreak of that pest.

Hardly had he brought order out of chaos when the army he had taken such
pains to discipline began to melt away, having been by political folly
recruited for short terms, and the work was to be all done over. Again and
again during the war regiments which had been enlisted for short periods
left him at the most critical moment. Very typical occurrences he himself
tells of, when Connecticut troops could "not be prevailed upon to stay
longer than their term (saving those who have enlisted for the next
campaign, and mostly on furlough), and such a dirty, mercenary spirit
pervades the whole, that I should not be at all surprised at any disaster
that may happen," and when he described how in his retreat through New
Jersey, "The militia, instead of calling forth their utmost efforts to a
brave and manly opposition in order to repair our losses, are dismayed,
intractable, and impatient to return. Great numbers of them have gone off;
in some instances, almost by whole regiments, by half ones, and by
companies at a time." Another instance of this evil occurred when "the
Continental regiments from the eastern governments ... agreed to stay six
weeks beyond their term of enlistment.... For this extraordinary mark of
their attachment to their country, I have agreed to give them a bounty of
ten dollars per man, besides their pay running on." The men took the
bounty, and nearly one-half went off a few days after.

Nor was this the only evil of the policy of short enlistments. Another was
that the new troops not merely were green soldiers, but were without
discipline. At New York Tilghman wrote that after the battle of Brooklyn
the "Eastern" soldiers were "plundering everything that comes in their
way," and Washington in describing the condition said, "every Hour brings
the most distressing complaints of the Ravages of our own Troops who are
become infinitely more formidable to the poor Farmers and Inhabitants than
the common Enemy. Horses are taken out of the Continental Teams; the
Baggage of Officers and the Hospital Stores, even the Quarters of General
Officers are not exempt from Rapine." At the most critical moment of the
war the New Jersey militia not merely deserted, but captured and took with
them nearly the whole stores of the army. As the General truly wrote, "the
Dependence which the Congress have placed upon the militia, has already
greatly injured, and I fear will totally ruin our cause. Being subject to
no controul themselves, they introduce disorder among the troops, whom you
have attempted to discipline, while the change in their living brings
on sickness; this makes them Impatient to get home, which spreads
universally, and introduces abominable desertions." "The collecting
militia," he said elsewhere, "depends entirely upon the prospects of the
day. If favorable they throng in to you; if not, they will not move."

To make matters worse, politics were allowed to play a prominent part in
the selection of officers, and Washington complained that "the different
States [were], without regard to the qualifications of an officer,
quarrelling about the appointments, and nominating such as are not fit to
be shoeblacks, from the attachments of this or that member of Assembly."
As a result, so he wrote of New England, "their officers are generally of
the lowest class of the people; and, instead of setting a good example to
their men, are leading them into every kind of mischief, one species of
which is plundering the inhabitants, under the pretence of their being
Tories." To this political motive he himself would not yield, and a sample
of his appointments was given when a man was named "because he stands
unconnected with either of these Governments; or with this, or that or
tother man; for between you and me there is more in this than you can
easily imagine," and he asserted that "I will not have any Gentn.
introduced from family connexion, or local attachments, to the prejudice
of the Service."

To misbehaving soldiers Washington showed little mercy. In his first
service he had deserters and plunderers "flogged," and threatened that if
he could "lay hands" on one particular culprit, "I would try the effect of
1000 lashes." At another time he had "a Gallows near 40 feet high erected
(which has terrified the rest exceedingly) and I am determined if I can
be justified in the proceeding, to hang two or three on it, as an example
to others." When he took command of the Continental army he "made a pretty
good slam among such kind of officers as the Massachusetts Government
abound in since I came to this Camp, having broke one Colo, and two
Captains for cowardly behavior in the action on Bunker's Hill,--two
Captains for drawing more provisions and pay than they had men in their
Company--and one for being absent from his Post when the Enemy appeared
there and burnt a House just by it Besides these, I have at this time--one
Colo., one Major, one Captn., & two subalterns under arrest for tryal--In
short I spare none yet fear it will not at all do as these People seem to
be too inattentive to every thing but their Interest" "I am sorry," he
wrote, "to be under a Necessity of making frequent Examples among the
Officers," but "as nothing can be more fatal to an Army, than Crimes of
this kind, I am determined by every Motive of Reward and Punishment to
prevent them in future." Even when plundering was avoided there were short
commons for those who clung to the General. The commander-in-chief wrote
Congress that "they have often, very often, been reduced to the necessity
of Eating Salt Porke, or Beef not for a day, or a week but months
together without Vegetables, or money to buy them;" and again, he
complained that "the Soldiers [were forced to] eat every kind of horse
food but Hay. Buckwheat, common wheat, Rye and Indn. Corn was the
composition of the Meal which made their bread. As an Army they bore it,
[but] accompanied by the want of Cloaths, Blankets, &c., will produce
frequent desertions in all armies and so it happens with us, tho' it did
not excite a mutiny." Even the horses suffered, and Washington wrote to
the quartermaster-general, "Sir, my horses I am told have not had a
mouthful of long or short forage for three days. They have eaten up their
mangers and are now, (though wanted for immediate use,) scarcely able to
stand."

Two results were sickness and discontent. At times one-fourth of the
soldiers were on the sick-list. Three times portions of the army mutinied,
and nothing but Washington's influence prevented the disorder from
spreading. At the end of the war, when, according to Hamilton, "the army
had secretly determined not to lay down their arms until due provision and
a satisfactory prospect should be offered on the subject of their pay,"
the commander-in-chief urged Congress to do them justice, writing, "the
fortitude--the long, & great suffering of this army is unexampled in
history; but there is an end to all things & I fear we are very near to
this. Which, more than probably will oblige me to stick very close to my
flock this winter, & try like a careful physician, to prevent, if
possible, the disorders getting to an incurable height." In this he judged
rightly, for by his influence alone was the army prevented from adopting
other than peaceful measures to secure itself justice.

A chief part of these difficulties the Continental Congress is directly
responsible for, and the reason for their conduct is to be found largely
in the circumstances of Washington's appointment to the command.

[Illustration Removed: Life Mask of Washington]

When the Second Congress met, in May, 1775, the battle of Lexington had
been fought, and twenty thousand minute-men were assembled about Boston.
To pay and feed such a horde was wholly beyond the ability of New England,
and her delegates came to the Congress bent upon getting that body to
assume the expense, or, as the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts
naively put it, "we have the greatest Confidence in the Wisdom and Ability
of the Continent to support us."

The other colonies saw this in a different light. Massachusetts, without
our advice, has begun a war and embodied an army; let Massachusetts pay
her own bills, was their point of view. "I have found this Congress like
the last," wrote John Adams. "When we first came together, I found a
strong jealousy of us from New England, and the Massachusettes in
particular, suspicions entertained of designs of independency, an American
republic, Presbyterian principles, and twenty other things. Our sentiments
were heard in Congress with great caution, and seemed to make but little
impression." Yet "every post brought me letters from my friends ... urging
in pathetic terms the impossibility of keeping their men together without
the assistance of Congress." "I was daily urging all these things, but we
were embarrassed with more than one difficulty, not only with the party in
favor of the petition to the King, and the party who were zealous of
independence, but a third party, which was a southern party against a
Northern, and a jealousy against a New England army under the command of a
New England General."

Under these circumstances a political deal was resorted to, and Virginia
was offered by John and Samuel Adams, as the price of an adoption and
support of the New England army, the appointment of commander-in-chief,
though the offer was not made with over-good grace, and only because "we
could carry nothing without conceding it." There was some dissension
among the Virginia delegates as to who should receive the appointment,
Washington himself recommending an old companion in arms, General Andrew
Lewis, and "more than one," Adams says of the Virginia delegates, were
"very cool about the appointment of Washington, and particularly Mr.
Pendleton was very clear and full against it" Washington himself said the
appointment was due to "partiality of the Congress, joined to a political
motive;" and, hard as it is to realize, it was only the grinding political
necessity of the New England colonies which secured to Washington the
place for which in the light of to-day he seems to have been created.

As a matter of course, there was not the strongest liking felt for the
General thus chosen by the New England delegates, and this was steadily
lessened by Washington's frank criticism of the New England soldiers and
officers already noticed. Equally bitter to the New England delegates and
their allies were certain army measures that Washington pressed upon the
attention of Congress. He urged and urged that the troops should be
enlisted for the war, that promotions should be made from the army as a
whole, and not from the colony- or State-line alone, and most unpopular of
all, that since Continental soldiers could not otherwise be obtained, a
bounty should be given to secure them, and that as compensation for their
inadequate pay half-pay should be given them after the war. He eventually
carried these points, but at the price of an entire alienation of the
democratic party in the Congress, who wished to have the war fought with
militia, to have all the officers elected annually, and to whom the very
suggestion of pensions was like a red rag to a bull.

A part of their motive in this was unquestionably to prevent the danger of
a standing army, and of allowing the commander-in-chief to become popular
with the soldiers. Very early in the war Washington noted "the jealousy
which Congress unhappily entertain of the army, and which, if reports are
right, some members labor to establish." And he complained that "I see a
distrust and jealousy of military power, that the commander-in-chief has
not an opportunity, even by recommendation, to give the least assurance of
reward for the most essential services." The French minister told his
government that when a committee was appointed to institute certain army
reforms, delegates in Congress "insisted on the danger of associating the
Commander-in-chief with it, whose influence, it was stated, was already
too great," and when France sent money to aid the American cause, with the
provision that it should be subject to the order of the General, it
aroused, a writer states, "the jealousy of Congress, the members of which
were not satisfied that the head of the army should possess such an agency
in addition to his military power."

His enemies in the Congress took various means to lessen his influence and
mortify him. Burke states that in the discussion of one question "Jersey,
Pennsylvania, North Carolina, and South Carolina voted for expunging it;
the four Eastern States, Virginia and Georgia for retaining it. There
appeared through this whole debate a great desire, in some of the
delegates from the Eastern States, and in one from New Jersey, to insult
the General," and a little later the Congress passed a "resolve which,"
according to James Lovell, "was meant to rap a Demi G--over the knuckles."
Nor was it by commission, but as well by omission, that they showed their
ill feeling. John Laurens told his father that

"there is a conduct observed towards" the General "by certain great men,
which as it is humiliating, must abate his happiness.... The Commander in
Chief of this army is not sufficiently informed of all that is known by
Congress of European affairs. Is it not a galling circumstance, for him to
collect the most important intelligence piecemeal, and as they choose to
give it, from gentlemen who come from York? Apart from the chagrin which
he must necessarily feel at such an appearance of slight, it should be
considered that in order to settle his plan of operations for the ensuing
campaign, he should take into view the present state of European affairs,
and Congress should not leave him in the dark."

Furthermore, as already noted, Washington was criticised for his Fabian
policy, and in his indignation he wrote to Congress, "I am informed that
it is a matter of amazement, and that reflections have been thrown out
against this army, for not being more active and enterprising than, in the
opinion of some, they ought to have been. If the charge is just, the best
way to account for it will be to refer you to the returns of our strength,
and those which I can produce of the enemy, and to the enclosed abstract
of the clothing now actually wanting for the army." "I can assure those
gentlemen," he said, in reply to political criticism, "that it is a much
easier and less distressing thing to draw remonstrances in a comfortable
room by a good fireside, than to occupy a cold, bleak hill, and sleep
under frost and snow, without clothes or blankets."

The ill feeling did not end with insults. With the defeats of the years
1776 and 1777 it gathered force, and towards the end of the latter year it
crystallized in what has been known in history as the Conway Cabal. The
story of this conspiracy is so involved in shadow that little is known
concerning its adherents or its endeavors. But in a general way it has
been discovered that the New England delegates again sought the aid of the
Lee faction in Virginia, and that this coalition, with the aid of such
votes as they could obtain, schemed several methods which should lessen
the influence of Washington, if they did not force him to resign. Separate
and detached commands were created, which were made independent of the
commander-in-chief, and for this purpose even a scheme which the General
called "a child of folly" was undertaken. Officers notoriously inimical to
Washington, yet upon whom he would be forced to rely, were promoted. A
board of war made up of his enemies, with powers "in effect paramount,"
Hamilton says, "to those of the commander-in-chief," was created It is
even asserted that it was moved in Congress that a committee should be
appointed to arrest Washington, which was defeated only by the timely
arrival of a new delegate, by which the balance of power was lost to the
Cabal.

Even with the collapse of the army Cabal the opposition in Congress was
maintained. "I am very confident," wrote General Greene, "that there is
party business going on again, and, as Mifflin is connected with it, I
doubt not its being a revival of the old scheme;" again writing, "General
Schuyler and others consider it a plan of Mifflin's to injure your
Excellency's operations. I am now fully convinced of the reality of what I
suggested to you before I came away." In 1779 John Sullivan, then a member
of Congress, wrote,--

"Permit me to inform your Excellency, that the faction raised against you
in 1777, is not yet destroyed. The members are waiting to collect
strength, and seize some favorable moment to appear in force. I speak not
from conjecture, but from certain knowledge. Their plan is to take every
method of proving the danger arising from a commander, who enjoys the full
and unlimited confidence of his army, and alarm the people with the
prospects of imaginary evils; nay, they will endeavor to convert your
virtue into arrows, with which, they will seek to wound you."

But Washington could not be forced into a resignation, ill-treat and
slight him as they would, and at no time were they strong enough to vote
him out of office. For once a Congressional "deal" between New England and
Virginia did not succeed, and as Washington himself wrote, "I have a good
deal of reason to believe that the machination of this junto will recoil
on their own heads, and be a means of bringing some matters to light which
by getting me out of the way, some of them thought to conceal," In this he
was right, for the re-elections of both Samuel Adams and Richard Henry Lee
were put in danger, and for some time they were discredited even in their
own colonies. "I have happily had," Washington said to a correspondent,
"but few differences with those with whom I have had the honor of being
connected in the service. With whom, and of what nature these have been,
you know. I bore much for the sake of peace and the public good"

As is well known, Washington served without pay during his eight years of
command, and, as he said, "fifty thousand pounds would not induce me again
to undergo what I have done." No wonder he declared "that the God of
armies may incline the hearts of my American brethren to support the
present contest, and bestow sufficient abilities on me to bring it to a
speedy and happy conclusion, thereby enabling me to sink into sweet
retirement, and the full enjoyment of that peace and happiness, which will
accompany a domestic life, is the first wish and most fervent prayer of my
soul."

The day finally came when his work was finished, and he could be, as he
phrased it, "translated into a private citizen." Marshall describes the
scene as follows: "At noon, the principal officers of the army assembled
at Frances' tavern; soon after which, their beloved commander entered the
room. His emotions were too strong to be concealed. Filling a glass, he
turned to them and said, 'With a heart full of love and gratitude, I
now take leave of you; I most devoutly wish that your latter days may be
as prosperous and happy, as your former ones have been glorious and
honorable.' Having drunk, he added, 'I cannot come to each of you to take
my leave; but shall be obliged to you, if each of you will come and take
me by the hand.' General Knox, being nearest, turned to him. Incapable of
utterance, Washington grasped his hand, and embraced him. In the same
affectionate manner he took leave of each succeeding officer. In every eye
was the tear of dignified sensibility, and not a word was articulated to
interrupt the majestic silence, and the tenderness of the scene. Leaving
the room, he passed through the corps of light infantry, and walked to
Whitehall, where a barge waited to convey him to Powles-hook. The
whole company followed in mute and solemn procession, with dejected
countenance ... Having entered the barge, he turned to the company, and,
waving his hat, bade them a silent adieu."